“The stories in the sky”

The sky was dark blue like the bruises on my heart, but it was not scarred. Didn’t He ask us to look up and see if we could find any cracks in it?

And the sky was purple with shades of pink and I wonder if it’s alright to say I was reminded of blueberry ice cream but that’s irrelevant because the world turned and turned again, as we spoke.

And soon it was light blue, like the ocean that I witnessed. And it was only Al Mussawir (The Artist) that could create such a spectacular master piece where the highest sky and the lowest sea met and embraced each other as if one.

And then a tinge of orange, that was rising from the East. It spread slowly, inspiring the birds to start flying with it. And they sung the merriest songs and I, much like William Wordsworth, could not help but stop to listen and get lost in them.

And the sky was then yellow, like fire that eats up everything in its path; and so did the sunlight as it shone upon all that the eye could see.

And then the sky turned orange once more. But now it was sinking, like my hopes did and I was terrified of losing all the light that I had before.

And soon came the light blue, as I bid farewell to what I loved. We were warned that everything except Him has an ending, but we forgot Him and remembered everything else.

And the sky was purple again and again the pink streaks ran through it, reminding me to not believe in the absoluteness of anything I could see because my eye could be deceived very easily, if my heart lost track. “It is not the eyes that are blind, but the hearts”, He said.

And now I stood enveloped by an endless dark blue, and all I had was the pieces of my heart and an abyss to gaze into.

But then something twinkled. I saw a star, and then a hundred more. And I looked down and the world glowed. The tears in my eyes became diamonds, reflecting the light of the moon, reflecting the light of the sun, reflecting the light of my Lord.

And He smiles down at me, as the universe echoes, “Verily, with hardhsip comes ease.” He said He is with the patient ones, and now I see. My broken heart feels more complete than the one inside the chest of the man who has everything.

And to the quietness of the night, I carry this heart, with some blueberry ice cream and the feeling of waves touching my ankles. In the brilliance of constellations that tell me stories about how His mercy outweighs His wrath; I find myself, right in the middle of the embrace between the black sky and the black sea.

Now don’t you ever think that you’ve been left alone. He loves you too much for that.